After The Comet Passes
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: We've gotten some insight into the lives of the Gaang after the war ended...all except Sokka and Suki. Where does life take you when you've saved the world by the time you're sixteen? This is basically an extended head-canon of their life together, mostly in line with LoK canon. More chapters forthcoming!
1. Propose

**MAN, I haven't written in a long time. But then LoK happened and I got back into A:TLA and woops, here we are. I'm just drowning in headcanons, so we'll start with Sokka+Suki and then perhaps move on...to Zutara? I'll keep writing if I get some reviews :)**

* * *

He asks her to marry him exactly one day after the Comet passes.

The massive air ship continues chugging slowly back towards the Fire Nation capital, chasing the red glow of the Comet's departure back along the horizon, and he's lying on the floor of the cockpit while she rips strips of cloth from a soldier's cowl to bind his throbbing knee. A shadow passes over the ruined consoles as Aang glides by outside, restlessly looping them on their slow trek southwest. Toph snores in the corner, nested in a pile of spare infantry uniforms, her black hair fluttering with every breath; she looks small, sweet, like such a child…never mind that hours ago he saw her roll herself in sheets of cold metal like an ostrich-colt rolls in mud, never mind that she just brought down an entire fleet of deadly war balloons, never mind that she just won a war.

They all just won a war.

"Okay, just hold on a sec," Suki whispers, and suddenly her hands are on him, strong hands, trusted hands, dreams with fingers—and then there's a crunch and he shrieks.

"_YEOW!"_

"Sokka, shhh!"

"How about a little _warning_ next time, woman?!" he squeaks, rapidly blinking back tears as Suki sets the leg, splinting it against a metal bar and tying the cloth with deft, sure knots. "I'm a person, okay, not a lame ox-rooster!"

"Well, you sure squawk like one," she mutters, yanking the bindings one last time. Sokka wants to respond, he really does, but he's too busy whimpering.

Suki rolls her eyes and strokes his face, her thumb swiping beads of sweat and streaks of soot off of his temple. Her other hand finds his and laces their fingers together, her pale skin cast against his dusky brown. Her knuckles are rough, chapped, little scars criss-crossing the backs; her hands have been through so much. He wishes he could have protected them.

"There," she murmurs. "All better?"

"Kinda…"

A kiss. Soft, slow, and the world goes away.

"Now?"

"Definitely better."

She rolls her eyes again, but she's smiling, just like she was when he saw her sail in on a war balloon, back from a fiery sky of oblivion, back from forever, back to him. That smile defies everything he's ever believed, it always has, and now he reaches out and pulls that smile, along with the rest of her, right up against him, ignoring her protests about his leg and how he should be careful, it needs to set, and he presses his face into her neck and kisses the underside of her jaw and just tries to let that smile convince him, down in the deep parts of himself, that this thing is over for good.

Time passes. Her breathing is slow in his ear, and her arms are loose around his shoulders. His leg is killing him, but the pain is dull, not so urgent anymore, and he gets past it by recalling the sensation of Katara's super-wonder-healing-whatever, that thing she does where it makes his ears ring and then the cut or the bruise or the lump goes away. She's healed worse than this, she'll be able to sort him out…that is, if she and Zuko survived Azula…

Sokka's hand tightens on Suki's shoulder. _Katara is alive. Zuko is alive. C'mon, they're pros, they took Azula down. We would know if they hadn't. And even if they didn't…the Fire Lord is powerless and chicken-hog-tied with his tongue hanging out in the hold. Aang will definitely be able to take Azula. Relax, Sokka. Get some sleep._

But the rumbling of the empty airship, the image of crackling blue fire in his head, and the dark-brown ache in his leg aren't exactly sending him off to dreamland, and it doesn't take long for Sokka to wake Suki up with his restless shifting and grunting. She lifts her head away from the crook of his neck and rubs her eyes, strands of rusty-red hair waving in a frizzy mass around her fingers.

" 'verything okay?" she mumbles. Sokka winces as she stretches and cracks about eight joints at once.

"Yeah, yeah, it's all good…sorry I woke you up." She shrugs, glancing over at Toph in the corner.

"Man, she can sleep through anything."

"Trust me, that's a choice," Sokka says with a snort. "I tried to cook tiger-beef like, fifty feet away from her once and she woke up just to rob me blind. Blind-_er_. Oh, also don't attack her or anything."

"Yeah, I got that a while ago." Suki gets to her feet and moves to the cracked cockpit windows, peering out into the dying light. Now that the Comet has passed away from the planet, the clouds are no longer blood-red, but even now, in the late evening, they are still tinged a light pink. Sokka sees a shadow pass over the starboard side, and Suki's head swivels as she catches it too.

"He's still out there…" she says softly, and Sokka sees one hand rise, as though to follow Aang's path through the rosy night. "Think he's okay?

"Eh, he will be," he says with a sigh. "He got what he wanted, right? Aang got his magic Avatar hoo-ha working again, the Fire Lord is down for the count, and everyone's still alive and drooling. I mean, if he's not okay, then I'm just out of ideas at this point, y'know?"

"I guess so," she says, smiling, and then she's on her knees beside him again. Her hands move over his leg, and _wow_ does it hurt, but _wow_ does he wish she would never stop touching him. "How bad's it hurt?"

"You kidding?" he says through clenched teeth. "This is _nothin'._ Water Tribe men are warriors, we eat broken legs for breakfast."

"Spirits above, Sokka, if you start giving me this 'warrior men' crap again—"

"Hey, I'm not saying you're _not_ a warrior!"

"Good, because I'm the warrior who just saved your Water Tribe butt, by the way. You're welcome for that."

"I had everything under control, during the execution of _my plan_, which went perfectly, _you're welcome for that_—OW!"

"Woopsie! My hands slipped, sorry."

"You'll pay for that."

"Excuse me, _you_ still haven't paid off a certain 'dance lesson,' mister, and by the way, Koko called, she wants her underskirt back."

"I don't still have it!"

"Yeah, but you got seal jerky grease all over it, nobody could stand the smell."

He laughs, and she laughs, and his hand is tangled in her hair, and then he says, "Are you going to marry me?"

Outside, the sky is pink. A shadow—Aang, silent, gliding smooth as a living cloud—passes. The airship is humming beneath them, and Sokka doesn't know how long the moment goes on, how long her eyes meet his, how long that rough, warm, strong hand is resting there on his tender leg, how long it takes for something different than before, something new, to begin right there in front of him.

And then she smiles again, and he believes.


	2. Married

They get married exactly one year after the Comet passes.

The wedding is on Kyoshi Island, because if Suki is going to move to the South Pole and freeze her toes off, then she's sure as Shu going to leave her hometown in style—at least, this is how she puts it to Sokka, and he's not going to argue, because _he's getting married and it's going to be so awesome._

The venue preparations start four months in advance: Suki commissions Xiao Huzi, the engineering/construction firm that Teo, Haru, and their fathers have started together, to build the pavilion, while Ty Lee immediately appoints herself the Official Kyoshi Chair of Wedding Décor and General Accoutrements—and she does a great job, although she needs to be talked down from a certain level of pink.

Everyone arrives a few days in advance. Katara and Aang come especially early to help set up, drifting in on Appa to the delight of all the villagers who remember their last visit (although there are a bunch of younger girls who are not so pleased to see the Avatar hand-in-hand with his waterbending teacher). Zuko makes a subtle entrance, steaming into port on a small tugboat without any royal hullaballoo, laden with I'm-Sorry-I-Burned-Your-Village-Down presents and accompanied by a beaming Uncle Iroh, whose tea and comfort skills go much farther towards restoring Zuko's reputation in the village than do the large jade sculptures of badger-frogs. Toph just appears out of a hole in the ground one day, scaring the bejesus out of a poor young man who gets so upset that he starts foaming at the mouth and has to be dunked in the bay. And finally, Hakoda and Gran-Gran, accompanied by as many Southern Water Tribe warriors as could be spared, dock the longboats and disembark, their familiar faces a relief in the midst of all the hustling and bustling and which flowers go where and who wears which face paint and which kid has to be corralled by whom.

Sokka has to admit, he's almost as excited for the night before the wedding as the wedding itself. He's seen it happen—or rather, heard it happen—many times as a boy: the raucous partying in the men's hut as evening falls, the whooping and singing, the smell of bitter kelp liquor, burnt, savory meat, and rank sweat…and then, after the party peaks, the traditional "kidnapping" of the bride, when the groom sneaks into the bride's lodging and carries her off to consummate the marriage in preparation for the official ceremony that will join them together in the eyes of the community come daylight…

Yeah, it's true, he and Suki aren't exactly new to the whole consummation thing. But it's one thing to roll around in a tent on some random Fire Nation hillside, or to be irritatingly quiet in the back quarters of your father's house at the South Pole, and another thing to make love the night before you marry a wonderful woman. And Sokka is not going to waste the opportunity to make this occasion special. Oh yeah: he's got _confetti._

But first there's some partying to do. Before the sun has even started to set, Sokka is down at the beach, a bottle of _hai-dai_ liquor at his lips, eyes watering as Zuko and Haru shout "Chug! Chug! Chug!" Aang, standing a little farther back with a glass of watermelon juice, looks queasy.

"_Ah!_" Sokka gasps, finally drawing a breath as he swallows one last mouthful. "Beat _that_, Sparky!"

Zuko whoops and wraps an arm around Sokka's neck, squeezing his throat in a vice-grip while grabbing the bottle and taking a gulp of his own. Excluding Aang, the scruffy bunch on the beach—Haru, Pipsqueak, a bunch of Water Tribe Warriors, and Sokka's dad—are all nursing their own liquor or passing bottles back and forth; sometimes one of them will spit a mouthful into the flames of the small bonfire and laugh wildly as the cloud of vapor bursts into greenish sparks.

"_Hey_, Sokka," slurs Kannik, a Water Tribe man only a few years older than him, "did you build a house yet?"

"Nnnn—nnnn—Zzzkkk, nnnn!"

"What? Oh, woops," Zuko apologizes, removing his arm and saving Sokka from a slow and accidental death by asphyxiation. Sokka shakes his head to clear away the dancing spots of light and steals back his bottle of liquor, gulping down another draught.

"Yeah, I built a house. I mean, I built it out of snow, so it was _snow problem!" _Sokka is laughing now, because he knows he sounds like an idiot, and it's hilarious that he does, and also Momo just flew into the circle and sat on Aang's head, which is awesome.

"We built it together," says Hakoda, drinking from his own small bottle. "Sokka's got an imaginative way with architecture."

"It fell on you, didn't it?" asks Zuko, clapping him on the back. Sokka rolls his eyes and shoves Zuko away.

"Can it, Zuko. We just barely got everything fixed up from your last visit." Zuko coughs and takes a swig of liquor, which makes Sokka happy inside of himself. " 'Member that? You were all, 'gimme the Avatar!' and I was all 'BOOMERANG' and you were all 'bwuuuuuuuuuh' and Aang was like 'penguin-slice!' and then—"

"We don't have to go over this, Sokka," Aang breaks in, glancing at Zuko. Sokka snorts and waves a finger at Aang.

"Nope! Only people who drink get to contribute to the conversation, Wind-Boy!"

"I'm drinking!"

"_Real_ drinking! Not little-kid stuff! Here," he says, shoving the bottle of _hai-dai_ into Aang's hand. "I don't care if you're a monk or a polar-bear-badger-monkey or what, I'm getting married tomorrow!"

"No thanks, Sokka," Aang says politely, handing the bottle to Bato beside him. "I'll just celebrate with you spiritually."

"Boooooooooooo," Pipsqueak calls placidly from across the circle. In retaliation, Momo throws a nut at his face.

Hours later, the village is pitch-black, and Sokka can barely stand. The world is spinning around him, and images float past his eyes like dust motes through a ray of sunlight: his father and Bato singing boisterously by the glowing embers, Zuko throwing tiny fireballs through the air for Momo to chase, Kannik and Haru doing…_something_ over on the dune, something that looks a lot like wrestling but sounds kind of moany…that reminds him…

"Suki…I haveta…kinnap her…fer wedding…"

"Sorry, Sokka, I don't think that's gonna happen," comes Aang's gentle voice, floating out of the darkness, and Sokka feels the airbender's wiry shoulders rise up underneath his arm and a wave of warm, almost solid air lift his sluggish body off the ground and onto unsteady feet.

"But…_noooooo_…"

"Don't worry, I think she'll understand," he hears, and Aang laughs quietly beside him as they begin walking up the beach. "Katara came by a little earlier, she said Suki and Toph got into some kind of contest over the wine-tarts…"

"Mmmm…_tarts…"_

* * *

The night of the wedding is clear, with a full moon (as requested by Katara) and only a few wispy clouds streaking through a star-sprinkled night sky. Lanterns burning seal oil loop blue-and-pink around the wide stone pavilion, over which a low terrace is lit by more lanterns and several hundred red candles supplied by Zuko. Fireflies blink in and out over the island's hillside, and the village itself is covered top to bottom in flowers, garlands, long strips of green and blue cloth with pink accents.

Is Sokka hungover? Yes. Is he disappointed that he did not get to have his special kidnapping night with Suki, including confetti and noisemakers and the special mask? Yes. Could his last night as an unwed man have worked out better? Possibly.

Once his father and Katara bring Suki out from inside her parents' house, her hair held up in graceful knots at the back of her neck, a golden headdress sitting low on her forehead, the traditional Kyoshi warrior paint as stark and strong as her robe is soft and flowing, does he care in the slightest?

It isn't even a question.

During the ceremony, his ears are ringing in the same way they do when Katara heals a wound on his body. His father, face thickly layered with white, grey, and black facepaint, draws symbols on his and Suki's forehead, singing deep in his throat and keeping his tears to only a faint glimmer in the corners of his eyes. Suki's mother cries in full as her husband presents Sokka with a small embroidered pouch full of carved beads—the gifts they will receive as a married couple—and ribbons woven into patterns—the different vows that he and Suki will uphold in their marriage. Katara, standing in for his mother, lets her hand linger on his lips a moment longer than necessary as she blesses his mouth, then Suki's, so that their children will receive the best of their people's history and culture from their teachings.

Something is changing in him; something is turning over.

Finally, Aang—in lieu of a priest—presents Suki with the necklace that Sokka has carved for her. He sees her eyes wrinkle in the corners as she looks at it—"It's a tree, okay?" he whispers, and she crooks an eyebrow—and as he fastens it around her neck, a wisp of cloud melts away and moonlight, much stronger and brighter than it should, bursts over the whole wedding pavilion like a warm breath of mist over an icy slick.

That's when he cries.

The dancing last until morning. Sokka and Suki sing the first song, which starts slow and becomes faster, and faster, until Aang is whirling Katara around on an air scooter, until Zuko and Iroh are panting and laughing as they match each other's sharp kicks, until Ty Lee grabs a blushing Toph and dips her all the way down to the ground before she can stop her, until Hakoda roars with laughter and spins on the spot, until the both of them are smiling too hard to get through the words.

_You are my husband, you are my wife_

_My feet shall run because of you_

_My feet dance because of you_

_My heart shall beat because of you_

_My eyes see because of you_

_My mind thinks because of you_

_And I shall love because of you_


	3. Family

**LOL I can't stop.**

* * *

Their first child is born exactly four years after the Comet passes.

Sokka wanted to have kids sooner, but Suki made it very clear that she's a Kyoshi Warrior, an elite fighter with a body under her complete and total control, and she's only going to share that control with another person—_any_ other person—when she's good and ready. Also, she likes sleeping in.

But after three years or so, their lives in the Southern Water Tribe have settled into a rhythm of sorts, and it feels like something has shifted. Hakoda is still Chief, but the years of fighting have taken their toll, and he seems more inclined to spend time playing scuttlebones with Bato and whittling than adjudicating tribal disputes; as a result, Sokka has been stepping in rather frequently, and he's started to think of himself as more than just a right-hand man. Not only that, but his engineering projects have been going well, expanding the village boundaries by several blocks and filling in some of the empty territory left from the threadbare war years.

Speaking of which, Suki is far and away the best hunter in the tribe. Thanks to her, everyone is wearing shiny seal pelts and warm new penguin-skin gloves, and children and parents alike look red-cheeked and healthy from a steady diet of smoked meat. The Southern Water Tribe is starting to show signs of new life, and Sokka and Suki decide that they don't want to be left behind.

Suki's next cycle never comes

* * *

"Ice-dodging!" Sokka says gleefully, rolling a little chunk of ice over Suki's bare belly. She rolls her eyes and tries to sit up, but at eight months the baby is already riding heavy and low. Lying on her back, propped up on a million pillows, she can barely maneuver get up on one elbow.

"Stop it, that tickles." She swats him away gently, her fingers tangling with his even as the ice dribbles away to the floor. In the corner, Kanna hides her wrinkled old face and smiles as she stirs a steaming pot of hot water and rags.

"Well, our son needs to get used to it. I'm taking him ice-dodging as soon as he can walk," Sokka declares. Suki rolls her eyes.

"How about, as soon as I let you?"

"Woman, I am the head of this house—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, that doesn't mean I'm going to let you crack our kid's skull—"

"May I interrupt a moment?" Kanna says with a smirk, appearing at Sokka's elbow. He blushes and makes room for his grandmother, who settles herself at Suki's feet with a pile of hot rags and a small tub of seal blubber. Her knotted hands gentle and warm, she plies Suki's knees apart, swabs a rag in the little pot of grease, and reaches in between Suki's legs. Suki inhales sharply and Sokka grabs her hand as Kanna massages slowly but firmly, the grease stretching Suki's skin to prevent tearing.

"How long has there been blood, my dear?" Kanna asks softly, her voice low. Suki swallows and forces herself to look at the old woman, a member of her family now, ancient and small and endlessly kind, who asks her a question she wants to pretend doesn't exist.

"Um…just a few days. There hasn't been much, but I thought…maybe, just in case…"

"Of course," Kanna murmurs. Her eyes flick to Sokka, who doesn't notice; his attention is fully focused on Suki, one hand clasped around hers and the other stroking her hair. As Kanna's strong fingers set to work, probing and pushing the sensitive folds, Suki lets out a long breath and her head falls back, gaze moving up towards the little smokehole in the ceiling of the room.

"Ice-dodging," Sokka whispers. "Just the three of us."

She smiles.

* * *

The baby is delivered six weeks later, large and feet-first, with a long and excruciating delivery. Sokka dry-heaves outside during most of it.

But she is delivered.

They name her Suma, and they lose their minds over her. Everything she does is a miracle. Her blinking, her burbling, the twitches of her nose—Sokka especially can't get over that. She's the spitting image of Suki, but with warm brown skin and a tangle of dark Water Tribe hair, as well as a particularly booming laugh, even as an infant. When Aang and Katara come for a visit, Katara in the beginnings of her own pregnancy, it's just two straight weeks of cooing. They send Zuko a painted portrait, and he sends back a birthday present: a rocking ostrich-horse, brilliantly-painted and trimmed with gold, ruby eyes sparkling. When Suma learns to walk, she calls the present Tim-Tim and refuses to ride it, instead dragging it endlessly across the snow by its worn leather harness.

Before Suma is four months old, Suki is pregnant again: another daughter, this one named Sula. She looks like her aunt, wide blue eyes and silky cocoa skin, but her mother's rust-colored hair glows red against her cheeks. Where Suma is headstrong and tough, Sula is affable and calm; where Suma is sturdy, Sula is delicate. Zuko's gift to her, a stuffed platypus-bear named Po, is cuddled in bed every night.

When Suma is two and Sula is one, they get another sister: Soku. At this point, Sokka considers himself a pregnancy expert, and he tries to coach Suki through the delivery; however, once she throws a stool at him, Kanna suggests it might be better if he cheers her on from _outside_ the hut.

Soku looks like neither of her parents, but when Hakoda first holds her, his eyes fill with tears and he whispers the name of his dead wife. Her face is narrow, eyes blue-grey, hair thick and mouth upturned at the corners. Katara has just named her first daughter Kya, so they don't make a big fuss out of the resemblance, but it only becomes clearer as Soku gets older, and Sokka finds himself remembering his mother's face clearly for the first time in years.

The fourth pregnancy is different than the other three. At five months, Suki has a hunting accident with a wounded leopard-shark and nearly miscarries; Sokka sends ten different messengers for Katara, who arrives a day later and spends forty straight hours with Suki in the healing hut. At the end of it all, Suki keeps the baby and delivers on time. But when Siko is born, something seems wrong.

They understand soon: she is deaf. Her eyes roam ceaselessly, but they don't respond to the sounds of her parents' voices, and when she cries, no amount of soft sounds can calm her. For weeks, Suki stays in her room, curled in a ball, eating what little broth Kanna can spoon into her. She doesn't let Sokka touch her. The baby is wet-nursed by a woman in the village, and Sokka tries to explain to his other two girls why their mother seems so broken. Hakoda finds his son one night, wrapped in a parka, standing on the outskirts of the village, staring at the arctic ocean.

"It feels like my fault," he says in a voice more cold and hollow than the frigid breeze. Hakoda squeezes his shoulder.

"This is no one's fault. This is a life like any other: patterned, troubled, and surprising." Sokka shakes his head. Hakoda sighs. "You were born before your time, you know."

"What?" Sokka looks up, brow furrowed.

"A full month before term. We stayed up with you for three days, singing and rocking you, wrapping you in furs…you were so tiny, son. So fragile."

"I'm not fragile," Sokka mutters, and Hakoda snorts.

"We're all born fragile, Sokka, and we stay that way. But you're a survivor, then and now. Just like your wife is, and your children will be."

Sokka shakes his head again, eyes squeezed shut, and then suddenly his arms are wrapped around his father, and just like he did so many years ago, Hakoda is holding his boy, rocking him back and forth, humming something deep in his throat and willing the moon spirit to see him through the night.

The next morning, Sokka sends a message to Toph.

* * *

Toph refuses to spend any time at the South Pole, where she can't see for miles, so the family takes a trip to Kyoshi Island. Suki is still wraith-like, but seeing her family cheers her up a little, and when they show her the wooden statue that has been erected in her honor, right beside Avatar Kyoshi's, she actually cracks a smile.

Toph arrives in a cloud of dust and clanking metal, complaining loudly about what a pain it is to take time off from her metalbending academy. Of course, she also has buckets of presents for Suma, Sula, and Soku, and after a few rounds of The Trembler, she's their new favorite aunt.

"So where's the little peanut?" she finally asks, feet propped up on a coffee table as the two toddlers roll around underneath her chair. Sokka and Suki exchange a look.

"She's, um…she's in her crib," says Sokka, rubbing the back of his head. "Once you get her up, it's kind of hard to get her down again, because she can't really hear y—"

"Okay, lesson number one: don't keep your kid out of sight," Toph says, flicking a piece of dirt off her knuckle. "That's the best way to screw up anyone who's the slightest bit different. It may suck for you to have a loud screaming baby around all the time, but trust me, it's gonna suck a lot worse for her to grow up bored out of her mind."

Two minutes later, Sokka is carefully cradling a sleeping baby in his arms, sitting beside Suki on the couch. Her eyes drop to her hands, folded in her lap, and she bites her lower lip.

"Wow, she's teeny," Toph comments, a single eyebrow raised. "Smaller than that baby Katara delivered outside Ba Sing Se, and that was a newborn."

"She's small too, as well as being…y'know…"

"_Deaf_, Sokka. Lesson number two: say it. She didn't commit a crime, she's just got something extra to deal with." Toph's voice is carefully nonchalant, but her knuckles are white, and there are dents being dug by her heels into the coffee table. Sokka swallows and glances at Suki; she still hasn't looked up.

"She's deaf, Toph. Look, we're not—we wanted to talk to you because we don't know what to do, okay?"

"Yeah, no kidding," she snorts. Sokka grits his teeth. "You know there's nothing I can do for her, right? I mean, she's not going to be an earthbender. I won't be able to talk to her any better than you can, I can't teach her how to hear using magical handicap wisdom—"

"What do we do?" Sokka asks, and when his voice breaks on the last word, Toph falls silent. For a little while, all that can be heard are the sounds of the wind blowing on Kyoshi Bay and their three children laughing and playing in the other room. Suki's eyes are squeezed shut.

"I remember how your parents treated you." Sokka can feel Siko's heartbeat fluttering against his, like a baby saber-toothed moose-lion cub's, soft and delicate and trusting. "I remember how much that hurt you. Just…tell us what to do so that our daughter never feels that way because of us, ever. Please. I know this isn't your thing, I know it's a jerk move to ask you to relive this part of your life, but if you look at it from our point of view—"

"Really, Sokka?"

Neither of them have expected Suki to speak at all today, and neither of them could have possibly predicted that it would be that moment, of all and sundry moments, that would rouse her from her stupor. But suddenly she's looking up, and her eyes are wide, and they flick between Sokka and Toph, and then Toph snorts, and Sokka giggles, and a few minutes later, when Suma, Sula, and Soku all poke their heads into the room, they find their parents and Auntie Toph still wiping away the tears of laughter.


End file.
